Oblivious
by Simply Mim
Summary: Sheen is completely oblivious and Jimmy has a solution. Sheen/Libby.


_Okay this is my first attempt at a Jimmy Neutron fic! Please let me know what you thought!_

* * *

**Oblivious**

"And apparently the genetic manipulation can lead to pretty colors!" Carl was saying excitedly.

Jimmy slammed his locker shut with a sigh. Carl had been talking about some new genetic experiments on llamas all day. Jimmy was all for scientific advancement. But he had to draw the line on hearing about South American mammals for over eight _hours_.

"I take it you're not going to need a ride today then?" Jimmy finally asked, breaking into Carl's llama soliloquy.

"What? Oh, definitely not!" Carl exclaimed. "No, the llama club is meeting and we're going to research as much about this as we can! And I think Ella's bringing cookies!" Carl danced an erratic jig while Jimmy shook his head in amusement.

"Hey guys!" Libby said as she and Sheen approached the pair.

"Hey Libby," Jimmy said with a nod. "You ready Sheen?"

Sheen nodded. "Uh, hold on a sec. I have to ask Libby a question."

Sheen faced Libby, his usually confident demeanor replaced with nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah sure Sheen. What is it?" Libby acted nonchalant, but Jimmy could see the excitement in her eyes.

For the past few years, Libby had been making it increasingly obvious she liked Sheen. To everyone but Sheen that is. He had yet to get her hints.

Jimmy and Carl exchanged raised eyebrows. Was Sheen _finally_ going to ask Libby out?

"Tomorrow night's the annual UltraLord marathon and I was wondering if you could possible let me borrow the Special Edition #45 UltraLord that I gave you. I know, I know, it was a gift and only a jerk asks to borrow a gift you give someone but I just really don't know if I can handle watching the marathon without it. Pretty please?"

Libby blinked in disappointment. "Oh, um, sure. No problem," she said in a hollow voice.

Jimmy smiled apologetically at her and Libby managed a half-hearted one in return before trudging away.

After a moment of silence, Jimmy cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh, should we go?"

Sheen looked dazed. He nodded silently.

"Alrightey," Jimmy said. "See you later Carl."

"Bye guys," Carl said, shooting Jimmy a look.

Jimmy shrugged helplessly. The entire trip to Jimmy's lab was in silence. Sheen looked out the window with a particularly perplexed expression. Jimmy figured it was best to let Sheen figure this one out on his own.

As soon as they entered the lab, Jimmy headed straight for his workbench. He really needed to adjust the calibrations of his new prototype for his hypercube.

Sheen headed to the frigdge and got out a can of purple flurp for the two of them. He tossed Jimmy his before heading to the table where he usually did his homework. This entire process was still done in silence.

Jimmy was surprise, he didn't know Sheen was even capable of being quiet for that long.

Finally, nearly half an hour later, Sheen broke the silence.

"D'you think I made Libby mad?" he asked, twisting his pencil in his fingers anxiously.

Jimmy couldn't help but laugh. "Still doesn't get it," he mumbled underneath his breath without looking up from his invention. He should really let Sheen think about it harder. Honestly, Libby had even asked Sheen out once. But Sheen had assumed it was just as friends.

"What? Jimmy, what did you say!" Sheen needled.

Jimmy finally deigned to glance at his friend. Poor Sheen really did look hopelessly confused.

"Alright Sheen. I think I know how to explain to you what's going on. Close your eyes."

"What? Why?" Sheen asked. He didn't close his eyes.

"Trust me," Jimmy said patiently. "I think it would be easier this way than for me to actually explain it."

Feelings were most certainly not Jimmy's strongest suit.

"Fine," Sheen did as he was told. "This better not be one of your creepy experiment where you zap me when I'm not looking!"

"That was one time! Okay whatever. Now. What color are Libby's eyes?"

"Well that's a ridiculously easy question. Brown. Like the color of hot chocolate. Wait. No. Like the color of that one episode of UltraLord when he had to go into the infested rainforest. Those flowers were the exact brown as Libby's eyes."

Jimmy grinned. "Okay and _keep your eyes closed_ how long would you say we've been friends?"

"What? I don't know. Why?"

"Sheen."

"Okay, okay. Um, I guess like about six years?"

"Right. And what color are my eyes?"

Sheen slumped in his chair. "Ummmm brown?"

Jimmy laughed. "You can open your eyes now."

"Oh! Blue! I knew that," Sheen shouted. "Seriously."

"But do you see my point?"

Sheen stared at Jimmy blankly. "No."

"My _point_ was that you, oblivious and unable to pay attention to most things, are able to remember the exact shade of Libby's eyes when asked. I bet you even know what her favorite ice cream flavor is."

"Strawberry and mint," Sheen supplied.

Jimmy nodded.

After a moment, Sheen gasped. "You think I like Libby? _Like_ like her?"

Jimmy nodded once more. He was enjoying the incredulity in Sheen's expression.

Sheen sat and thought for a few more minutes. Abruptly, he jumped up. "You're right Jimmy! I need to tell her now! I could…I could invite her to the UltraLord marathon tomorrow!"

Jimmy pursed his lips. It was certainly a start.

"Oh, but how do I know when she'll be over at Cindy's?"

Jimmy checked his clock. "Oh, Cindy's usually back from Tae Kwon Do at this time. Libby will be here any minute now." He pushed a button and an overhead monitor descended. It had video surveillance of the house across the street.

On cue, Libby's car pulled up in front of Cindy's house.

"Now's my chance!" Sheen exclaimed, heading for the elevator. Right before he closed the doors, Sheen poked his head back into the lab.

"Don't think I didn't notice you know Cindy's schedule. _Jimmy has a crush_," he sing-songed.

"What! I do not!" Jimmy cried as the elevator doors shut on the sound of Sheen's cackling.

Jimmy glowered at the closed doors.

"I don't," he told a lounging Goddard. Goddard snuffled in response.


End file.
